


Ghost Jason and Robin Tim

by BlueFlameBird



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Red Hood and the Outlaws (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Jaytim secret santa 2017, M/M, Supernatural Elements, ghost jason, robin tim, slight angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2019-03-02 01:45:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13307796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlueFlameBird/pseuds/BlueFlameBird
Summary: in which Tim meets Jason's ghost.





	Ghost Jason and Robin Tim

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SociallyAwkwardFox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SociallyAwkwardFox/gifts).



> ayeeee so this was a gift fic for sociallyawkwardfoxwriter on tumblr and I finally decided to stop being lazy and post it on here.

 

Tim wasn’t one to believe in supernatural forces.

He liked to use logic and reasoning, science and math, evidence and facts.

Magic, ghosts, demons?

They had none of that.

Well, he knew several aliens, Miss Martian, Superboy, Starfire. He even knew the half demon, Raven. But he personally had no interaction with the supernatural forces, and he was fine with that.

He went through several…weird adventures with the Titans, even with Batman and Nightwing, but they were all solved in a logical way.

So when he started feeling like someone was watching him, or when weird things started happening, he thought he was just being paranoid. Little to no sleep and dealing with psychos like the Joker would do that to a person.

It wasn’t until things escalated, like his files flying everywhere, or his batarangs suddenly flying at him, that Tim finally accepted that maybe he was being haunted.

Even then, Tim didn’t tell anyone. It wasn’t like whatever spirit was doing this was hurting him, just making his job more difficult than it had to be.

So Tim ignored the papers being knocked down, grabbed a spare mask whenever his went missing suddenly, and did the best he could to try and figure out who would haunt him while paying them no mind.

The spirit, Tim begrudgingly admitted to it being a spirit, never followed him out of the cave, and though Tim still felt like he was being watched on missions, nothing supernatural ever happened. Tim wouldn’t admit he was thankful for that.

The Titans seemed to know immediately. Tim didn’t know how, but they knew. Kon and Bart always looked a touch more worried than usual. Raven gave him pointed looks, but said nothing. Gar was always on edge, and seemed anxious around him. Kori told him on multiple occasions he was more than welcome to stay. Tim declined every time, but the worried look she’d give him made Tim wonder when she would finally call Nightwing.

But none of them ever tried to force Tim to talk about it, and for that he was grateful.

Tim was always called a smart kid. He was far more intelligent than most kids his age, and he was already known as the world’s second greatest detective, right after Bruce. So, he did what every ‘normal’ kid his age would have done. He decided to talk to the spirit.

There was a sense of comfort being alone in the batcave to ‘talk to ghosts.’ He would at least hear Alfred or Bruce coming and could always say he was doing work.

With a tentative look towards Jason’s old Robin uniform, scorch marks and everything behind clear glass, Tim called out. “Uh..hello? Are you there?”

There was a pregnant silence. Tim knew he was listening, this wasn’t normal silence. Even the bats were watching, listening, waiting.

“Look, I don’t know what your problem is with me, but I’m not here to bother you.”

The silence continued to ring in the Batcave, and the cold sweat that broke out on Tim’s forehead told him that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

“I’m…just here to make sure Bruce doesn’t do anything stupid. After Jason died-”

It clicked in his mind. But Tim scrunched his face up, confused. He didn’t know Jason. Sure, he took pictures of him as Robin, but personally he didn’t know anything about him. Jason didn’t know him either. So why would he-

Tim sighed, turning to Jason’s suit, hung up like a memorial in the cave. “I know no one wants me to be here. Dick doesn’t, Bruce doesn’t, and it looks like you don’t want me here either. But…I have to do this. Batman and Robin meant more to me than you could ever imagine. Bruce is beating himself up because of what happened. He’s becoming self destructive and Dick won’t do anything about it. So, I will. And once I’ve served my purpose I’ll leave. But, just know until then, I’m staying. I  _have_  to stay. Please understand.”

Tim shivered as he felt a cold breeze behind him, but a quick glance told him no one was there. Maybe the spirit wasn’t listening?

“Master Tim?”

Tim jumped, whirling around to come face to face with Alfred. The butler was looking at him with something akin to worry.

“Are you alright, Master Tim? I heard you speaking.”

Tim stuttered, an embarrassed blush rising to his face at having been caught.

“I uh…yeah. I was just-”

Alfred looked passed Tim to Jason’s uniform, a sad look replacing the worry.

“I see. Master Bruce often does the same. He wallows in his guilt.” Alfred turned to Tim, a pointed look this time. “But perhaps you being here can remind him of why he chose to dawn the cape and cowl. He may seem distant and cold, but he’s just afraid of losing another partner so soon after his previous.”

Tim paused. “But Jason wasn’t just his partner. He was his son.”

Alfred’s eyes turned sad again, even if his tone didn’t betray it. “That he was, Master Tim. Now come along, it’s time for dinner.”

With one last look at the memorial, Tim followed after Alfred. Had he turned around, he would have seen what looked like a person looking up at the memorial as well.

 

 

Jason thought death would have been the end of things. He thought he’d see a white light and then nothing.

He was wrong.

He found himself in the manor, watching, but not being able to interact.

He’s tried, oh how he’s tried to call out to them, to touch them.

But he couldn’t.

Instead he had to sit by and watch as this…this  _pretender_ all but demanded to be made Robin. As he replaced him as if Jason was nothing more than a fleeting thought.

He was smart, Jason would give him that. He was maybe 2 years younger than him, but already brilliant in a way Jason had to work to be. Jason was book smart, and he was clever. But Tim? Tim was the detective Bruce wanted him and Dick to be.

Jason decided that if he couldn’t be Bruce’s sidekick, no one could. Sure, maybe it was petty, but Jason died and got nothing more than his mask and cape hung up. Hell, it didn’t even look like Dick knew until recently.

Jason didn’t do anything that could seriously hurt the kid. He didn’t hate him enough to stoop that low. He just wanted him to stop being Robin.

But after that one sided conversation in the Batcave, Jason was second guessing his choices.

Tim was right. Jason saw how Bruce was jumping head first into his work, pushing everyone away. But if hurt him to think that he couldn’t help, and had to rely on Tim to do it.

So, he stopped. Well, he didn’t completely stop, he was still a bit petty, but he wasn’t as bad as he was before. Where before it was a matter of trying to get Tim to quit, now it was more of something to keep him occupied and just to be a little shit.

Tim did nothing more than roll his eyes as he had to collect his papers, or sigh as his cape seemed to have disappeared. But he seemed glad that Jason didn’t outright ignore him.

Jason could do without the conversations though.

Tim had taken Jason’s little pranks to be a sign of begrudging acceptance, and while he was right, Jason didn’t want him to be comfortable with the fact. But while Tim rambled away in tales of the Titans, or the night’s mission, Jason listened. There was no way Tim could know for certain that he was listening. With the exception of Raven and Constantine, Jason was pretty much invisible to everyone else. So how could Tim know he was there and still act like they were the best of friends?

It took Jason a minute to realize that Tim simply didn’t have anyone else. While Tim had friends like Kon and Bart, they didn’t understand what it meant to be Robin. They didn’t get the mental and physical torture and exhaustion being Batman’s partner meant.

So Jason listened. Even if Tim didn’t know he was, he did.

Jason slowly saw things change. He saw Dick try to be a better brother to Tim than he was for Jason. And at first, it was another thing that pissed Jason off, but after stumbling upon one of their conversations, Jason realized it was out of guilt. Jason had left half way through the conversation. After all, Dick cared about him enough to beat the Joker to death with his bare hands, he didn’t need to try to get between them.

And as he realized how much he meant to Bruce, Dick, Alfred, and even Tim, Jason found himself at peace. He was loved, finally. But there seemed to be one thing keeping him from moving on.

“Tim.”

Tim’s ramblings and Jason’s thoughts were cut short as Bruce stood in the doorway of his room. Bruce looked around, as if looking for the person Tim was talking to, but found nothing. He raised a single eyebrow before shaking his head, seeming to remember why he was there.

“Tim, tonight you aren’t patrolling with me.”

“Excuse me?” Tim asked. His tone was polite, as if he was just asking Bruce to repeat himself, but his eyes held defiance, a challenge Bruce took in stride.

“Your father is bound to a wheelchair, Tim. He needs you more than Gotham does. Go, I will call Nightwing if i need assistance.”

“Bruce, you can’t do this to me! I need to be out there, I need to-”

“You aren’t thinking straight.” Bruce interrupted, and Jason rolled his eyes as he remembered all those times Bruce was more Batman than Bruce. “Anger is clouding your judgement. I know you want revenge but it will not end well if you go after Captain Boomerang. There is a line you don’t cross. I’ve already experienced one sidekick crossing that line out of emotion, I don’t need another.”

Tim knew where this was going, and it filled him with an unexpected wave of anger. Grabbing his coat, he angrily shoved his hands into the sleeves.

“I’m not your son, I’m your partner. I think I’ve done enough to deserve some respect.” Tim all but pushed Bruce aside as he stormed out of the room. Tim paused, turning to Bruce. “Oh, and that night with Felipe Garzonasa? Jason didn’t push him. I’d know, I was there.”

With that, Tim stormed out. As he yanked the front door open, he could have sworn he felt something warm on his shoulder.

“You’re welcome,” Tim mumbled, as he left Wayne manor.

 

 

Jason couldn’t bring himself to hate Tim. His initial anger now seemed childish, petty. He didn’t know Tim then, but as he learned more about the kid who took over Robin for him, the more he found himself interested in him.

Could ghosts fall in love? Jason didn’t need to eat, or sleep, but he could still feel emotions. That had to explain the protective feeling he had whenever Tim came home with so much as a scratch, or when Tim crawled into bed and silently trembled as he tried to sleep.

This didn’t compare to how he felt though, watching as Tim holed himself in his room, bawling his eyes out as he mourned his father.

And Jason could do nothing but watch.

“He’s dead, and it’s all my fault.”

Tim kept saying this, and Jason wanted so badly to tell him he was wrong, to tell him he was as much as a victim as Jason was, that the cape and mask just made them targets.

But he couldn’t, because he was dead.

When Tim finally exhausted himself to the point of drifting off, Jason put his ghost skills to work and gently covered him with a blanket.

Jason was a ghost, he couldn’t feel, but how would he explain the warmth that went through him when Tim sleepily mumbled “Thanks Jason,” then?

 

 

Jason was gone.

Tim just knew. He was gone.

He couldn’t feel him anymore. It was hard to explain how he knew, but he knew.

Did he move on? Was he at peace?

Tim felt guilty for feeling a bit bitter. Now Jason was probably in a better place, and here he was being angry for feeling left alone.

Tim sighed, pushing the thoughts out of his head as he looked up to the bat computer. It had been some years since he first decided to seek out the bat. Jason’s spirit had become such a crucial part. Who would understand now? Who would he talk to without feeling judged?

The thoughts were once again pushed out of his head as a ping appeared on the bat computer. It took Tim just a few clicks before that ping became a location.

Crime Alley?

Nightwing was busy in Bludhaven, and Bruce was off planet on League business.

That just left him.

Snapping his cape into place and slipping on his mask, Tim was just a little annoyed. Who was making trouble when he wanted to just brood and sulk?

Ugh, he sounded like Bruce.

Tim shot his grapple hook, flying and gliding to the location. He knew this could very well be a trap, but his instincts told him it probably wasn’t. Gotham had been silent since the Joker and most of the other Rogues were in Arkham, no doubt planning their next escape.

Tim sighed, a never ending war, this was.

“Tim.”

Tim whirled around, batarang in hand and ready when a figure stepped out of the shadows. He was tall, and built. He had a red helmet over his head, and dressed head to toe in armor, as if he was a vigilante himself.

Slowly, the stranger reached up to press a button behind his helmet. It loosened with a soft click, and he pulled it off.

Tim felt the breath leave him.

In front of him, the man grinned, a crooked grin that was unfairly attractive, blue eyes crinkling in mirth.

“Long time no see, baby bird.”

The voice was deep and Tim had to resist the urge to shudder. Instead he grinned back.

“Nice to finally see you, Jason.”


End file.
